Dreams
by TheFriendZone
Summary: Guts can never shake the images burned into his mind. They would haunt his dreams every night to his grave. But that doesn't mean he was the only one with nightmares.
1. Guts

_The blood._

 _The death._

 _Creatures beyond imagination ripping terrified soldiers apart like children's toys. Screams echoing through out the horrid landscape. Beasts biting through solid armor like it was nothing. Claws and teeth shredding meat and breaking solid weapons in mere swift movements. Swords crumbling into bits of broken metal._

 _Organs and entrails flying wildly as their owners were devoured by the demons. Bones cracking and snapping apart. The sky was lit by a black sun, painting the landscape with its red hue. Blood flowed into one massive pool, filled with whatever was left of the devoured knights._

 _Guts rose from the pool, painted completely red from the sickening fluid. A feral cry pushed through the violent discharge of blood from his lungs. His mind was nowhere to be found. Every step he made, forced to wade through the ocean of corpses, was done on nothing but pure hatred. His armor was stained red, the black cloak clung against his back._

 _He reached dry land, more blood poured from his armor, from every crack and opening it could find. Guts dragged his sword against the surface of wherever he was. Only withered faces made up the ground, all howling and screaming as the massive, rough blade clawed them apart. His muscles burned at the weight, nearing their limit._

 _He stared down at the form bleeding before him. Ready to strike._

 _It was Rosine, the girl that sold her parents to become an elf. Then kidnapped children to turn them into 'elves". Blood spilled from her mouth, the wound deep into her pelvis was fatal. The one he finished her with. But it wasn't enough._

 _He raised the sword, ready to spill more blood. To keep making her suffer. She deserved it. They all did. Child or not, she was filth. He would send her straight to Hell._

 _"Stop!" Adonis said, throwing himself on top of the dying Apostle-child. The blonde haired boy was the son of a man Griffith had Guts kill, all those years ago. A deep hole was clear in the back of the boy, pierced straight through his torso and out of his back. It was an accident. He didn't mean to kill him. Guts didn't know he was at the door. It wasn't his fault._

 _The screams changed. They warped, slowly but surely, into the crackling of fire. Heat surrounded him, almost cooking him in his armor. Guts looked around, but only flames greeted him. Intense, bright flames that threatened to consume him. He screamed, but only the fire answered back._

 _"Mommy..." Guts heard a small child say, mere inches from him. It was no taller than his a little below his waist, and it was made of nothing but flames. The face and body were barely discernable, the roaring inferno still raged around them. The child's voice was so human, so lifelike. It wiped its eyes as it cried, still begging for its mother._

 _Guts swung the sword, the massive hunk of iron called the Dragon Slayer, and split the fiery creature in two. Its body crumbled into ash. All around Guts, more sobbing children were heard. The fire grew hotter, the children grew closer. They all begged for the pain to stop, for their parents to save them, and for them to go home._

 _He could only laugh a sickening, psychotic laugh as he swung his sword. A wild animal had more grace. Every spirit he cut down was replaced by three others. And the fire only grew worse. No matter what he did, the creatures only pressed forward. Their fingers clutched onto his cape, and they climbed the mountain of a man as he swung wildly. The vengeful spirits piled on as Guts struggled to fend them off. Fire burned his skin, and numbness replaced all feelings wherever it seared him._

 _Guts roared as the monstrous children dragged him down. He tried in vain to keep swinging his sword, to throw them off with his arms, or to beat them to death with his metallic arm. Nothing worked. As he was dragged down into the all consuming blackness below, Guts could only claw towards the only thing he could recognize in the ungodly nightmare._

 _The misshapen fetus that he recognized as his corrupted child. A malformed abomination that sat in the flames, burning to ash. The fires licked every part of it. It thrashed and seized in the blaze. That one, piercing eye it had stared directly at Guts, as if it were begging him to save it. The heat burned hotter than the sun itself. Pure Hellfire rained down on them._

 _"Come on!" Guts shouted at the barely formed fetus, desperation filled him to the brim. The fire drowned out every word he screamed. "I'll get you out of here!"_

 _Guts reached his right arm out. He just needed to stretch a little further, and he could shield the infant from the fire. His fingers almost touched the deformed baby before more children arrived. They covered his entire body, flaming bodies consuming every shred of him. His vision became nothing but the flames. Soon, even that faded into pure darkness. Nothing but cold, isolated darkness._

 _The only voice he heard was that of Gambino, his adoptive father as a child. The one who raised him, and taught him how to be a mercenary. The same father that sold him to Donovan. The same man Guts killed, his sword pierced straight through his throat._

 _"You're just like your old man..." the twisted voice of Gambino said, tone cruel and vicious. "What kind of father tries to stomp their newly born kid to death? At least I tried to give you a chance."_

 _"Shut up..." Guts said, having finally found his voice. The words drilled into his brain. His gut twisted at every syllable._

 _"I mean, you two were the perfect match!" Gambino continued his cruel tirade, formless and all encompassing in the pitch black around Guts. His words echoed endlessly, whipping Guts like a battered dog. "A demon child would obviously have another demon crawl out of whatever whore he slept with."_

 _"Shut up!" Guts wanted to run from the voice. To find his sword and slash at Gambino until that smug voice stopped. But it never did. It only persisted further. The torture only got worse. He wouldn't have been a bad father. He wouldn't have been. If he just had a chance to prove it, he knew he would have been good. Gambino was wrong. Guts wasn't like him. He knew he wasn't._

 _"Shisu should have learned that lesson," Gambino pushed on, no sign of ending his cruel attacks any time soon. " **Your** woman did. She turned herself into a blithering maniac because of the evil you put in her belly."_

 _"SHUT UP!" Guts could only swing his arms in the dark, hoping to hit Gambino, where ever he hid. Guts threw punch after punch into the black void. The only thing his fists would catch would be nothing but air._

 _"If only Shisu left you to rot under that tree where your real mother hung from," Gambino sneered out, his body formed in the emptiness of the abyss. Those evil, proud eyes stared down at Guts, towering over him. "Then nobody would be dead because of you!"_

 _One of Gambino's massive hands flew towards Guts, faster than he could have ever possibly have seen. The hand caught Guts, pushing him further into the black nothing. Guts could only scream in horror as he was caught in his grip, unable to break free._

 _The last thing he heard were the words that stuck with him for so long. The ones that he heard before, just like he was a child all over again. Those words were said before he saw his sword through his father's throat, blood sliding down the blade and making his hands slick. Before his life became one long bad dream he couldn't wake up from._

 _"YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!"_

* * *

Guts snapped awake, a growl in his throat. Heavy breaths left his chest. He scanned the room, but it was pitch black. His heart raced. Sweat soaked his body, as though he was drenched by heavy rain. A warmth on his right hand made him snap his arm away as he snarled in the dark. Only the rocking of the ship calmed him down.

"You had a nightmare," a familiar voice said, catching Guts' attention. It was Schrieke's, the young witch who joined Guts on his journey. She was still young, not even older than twelve years old. She lit the candle to the small lantern she held, a soft light bloomed in the room. She stood beside his bed, just tall enough to match his gaze as he laid down. Her bright green hair was a mess, the bags under her eyes told Guts she must have been asleep. She still wore her witch robe, which made Guts give a dry chuckle.

"Yeah..." Guts said, his form crumbled down into the bed. He rubbed his face, "did I wake you up?"

Schrieke gave a small, hesitant nod. She stared down at the bed, her eyes refused to raise and meet his eye.

"You were thrashing around quite a bit," Schrieke said worriedly. She bent her neck to catch a better view of his Brand, the mark permanently carved into his neck. "If the protective charm is wearing off, then it could have attracted an Incubus."

Guts shook his head slowly, tiredly. He almost snickered at her worrying nature. She always doubted herself too much. Found too many reasons to think she failed. Kid needed to relax more.

"No," he said, his hand waved in the air as he spoke, "it was just some bad memories."

He looked to Schrieke, who lowered her head. She turned away from him, ready to leave the small compartment in the ship used as a bedroom. A slight frown of disappointment tugged at her lips. Schrieke walked slowly, as if to give him enough time to stop her. The tired, crippled man gave a sigh, and ran his hand through his spiky black hair.

"You ever have nightmares?" Guts asked suddenly. He noticed the girl froze, head perked up from the sudden question. It was a stupid question, but at least it would make her feel better. At least, he thought it would.

"Sometimes," Schrieke said, her head sank as she answered. A red tint colored her cheeks. A part of her was glad she wasn't facing him. She drew a circle in the floorboard with her foot as she remembered the ones that always made her cry to her Mistress the most. "They're all very foolish. 'Monster hiding under the bed' types."

Guts nodded, as silent as a ghost. He closed his eye as the words came to his mind. Children were never anything he thought about. Even when he was at his most happy with Casca, under that waterfall years before, they never came to mind. He wasn't a nurturing type of man. Guts learned that when he tried to murder his son, any sorrow or grief drowned out by pure malice. Paternal instinct just wasn't in his blood.

Guts fell back onto the mattress. The soft, firm surface almost sent him right back to sleep. Yet he couldn't. She needed help. Even though he knew to keep a distance, to not let himself get too close, that she'd be taken away just like everyone else was, some part of him couldn't leave her alone in the dark. It reminded him too much of himself.

"Don't be scared when you have those types of dreams," Guts said, his tone oddly warm. He heaved a heavy sigh, that large, scarred chest rose and fell with the breath. "The monster ain't gonna hurt you."

"H-How do you know?" Schrieke asked, embarrassed to still be on the subject. It made her feel like a child. To still be scared of such juvenile dreams. Their entire group fought off horrid abominations and evil spirits countless times. She should have been able to force out any fear from her mind.

"You want to be scared because you're afraid it'll get you," Guts began, his voice low and quiet. His limbs felt like lead, and his body sank further down into the mattress. "It looks big, mean, and scary, like a wild dog about to bite an arm off. But it's just a coward," Guts gave a sad, weak smile. Barely even that, as it appeared and vanished without a trace on his face. It felt nice to talk to her like that. "You're stronger than anything that has to hide under some bed sheets. Stronger than any of us."

Schrieke gave a small huff, and left the room without a word after that. He didn't see it, but a grin just barely formed on Schrieke's lips as she heard the words. All light vanished, which left Guts in the dark. He only had his thoughts, the gentle groans of the ship, and the slight crashes of the waves against the hull to keep his mind busy.

He thought back to the infant he despised for so long. That deformed, tiny thing that followed him since his long journey began. It was so malformed, so premature. He wasn't even sure it was his _son_. Whatever body it had was so corrupted that it could not even be classified as human. Guts thought back to the idea of children; of being a father, and taking care of something so small and innocent. He failed once before, but if he ever gained another chance? To go back and fix the mistakes he made, and be able to have a real family?

" _I would hope my daughter turned out as strong as her,_ " Guts thought as he felt sleep finally win over him.

He knew it was impossible. Men like him didn't have families. They could never have found peace, or purpose in anything other than battle. In death. They brought only misfortune and suffering onto everyone they cared about. It clung to them their entire lives. Guts knew that if he tried to play house, then only bad shit would follow suit.

" _Still..._ " Guts thought, his mind emptying, " _I hope she'd be as strong as her._ "


	2. Farnese

_She felt so small. A mere speck of dust trapped in a massive labyrinth. Something so tiny and insignificant that she was terrified. Terrified of simply vanishing. That her entire existence would be wiped away in a second. It consumed her, weighed her heart down so heavily that she felt like it was going to be crushed. That horrid fear filled her body, and made her feel like solid rock flooded her veins. Each breath was harder to take._

 _Farnese was trapped in the endless darkness. All she saw was an abyss so far and wide that it shattered her mind to look. The empty black before her drowned every sense. Her body felt numb, and shook like a leaf. She wanted to run, but her legs were pinned where they were. No matter how hard she ordered them to put one foot in front of the other they remained still. Same with her arms and hands. Even her brain felt paralyzed. Every part of her body was frozen in the void. The endless void that sucked her deeper into the darkness._

 _"_ _ **S-SOMEONE!**_ _" Farnese screamed in her mind, as her tongue refused to form the words. "_ _ **HELP ME!**_ _"_

 _She wanted to sob. To curl her body as much as she could. To just wish the fear away and be free of her prison. Yet nothing changed. Her chest felt tighter, and her lungs seemed to shrink. Her pupils shrank to mere pins as it became harder to breathe. Farnese wanted to clutch at her throat, but her arms remained. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she could not even wipe them away. But just as soon as she thought she was going to die in that nightmarish space, a twinkle appeared in the distance._

 _It grew slowly, but surely. After a few seconds, it became the size of a small rock. A minute passed and it was the size of an apple. Farnese felt her lungs heave as her breath returned. A strange warmth built in her arms. It started in her elbows, but made its way down through her veins. As if whatever entity that kept her trapped was being burned out of her body. It was pleasant, as if she sat next to a warm fireplace after a blizzard. The numbness melted out of her, and Farnese could finally move her body._

 _She put one shaky foot forward, still unsure of how stable she was in that land, and moved the second one shortly after. Farnese walked to the light, desperate to feel more warmth. The dark was far too cold, and was so frightening. A smile formed on her face as the light grew larger. It was so nice. It felt so good to be in the light. Her walk turned into a sprint as she looked over her shoulder, and saw the darkness be swallowed by the white light._

 _Farnese let out a wild laugh as she realized her triumph. She did not feel small anymore. Her heart was not crushed. She move and laugh, and all of her fear vanished. It was only once she stopped to catch her breath did she notice the world around her._

 _The white was being slowly consumed by something else._

 _Instead of the warmth she felt, the pleasant happiness that filled her being, a sickly heat flooded her. Her abdomen burned with that familiar feeling she only felt in her most shameful moments. The white shifted into a hellish orange. A crackling sound filled her eyes as smoke filled her lungs. Farnese coughed and the stench of burned meat forced its way into her nose._

 _Farnese, that familiar fear back and stronger than ever, snapped her neck all around. What happened to the light? Why did it change? How did this happen? Where was everyone?_

 _"Lady Farnese?" a voice shot into her mind. Farnese turned to her side, and saw her servant, Serpico, as he stood next to her. His face, though always calm and collected, had a clear confusion written on it. "Are you not going to perform the execution?"_

 _"Ex-Execution?" Farnese asked before she turned her head back, and saw the lit torch in her hand. The fire was strong, and sweat poured from her brow. That disgusting heat ran through her body, and Farnese felt her cheeks blush._

 _"The heretic burning?" Serpico asked simply, and waved his hand to the stakes in front of them._

 _" Heretic-?" Farnese's words were torn from her mouth. All that she could mutter was a strangled whimper. The shock was so heavy she almost dropped the torch._

 _Before her were four stakes, lined up side by side. The base of each was covered in dried wood, soaked in oil. The odor of which made her lightheaded. But it was the people on the stakes that stole her complete attention._

 _Isidro was on the stake farthest to the left. He fought against the ropes, and tried to force his way off of the stick he was tied to. He screamed random obscenities and harsh words to Farnese and Serpico, and promised to kill the both of them once he was freed._

 _Schrieke was on the stake next to him. While Isidro screamed and roared in anger, Schrieke merely sobbed. Farnese could barely hear her words, but the ones she did catch were desperate apologies to her Mistress Flora, the woman who taught and raised her._

 _Casca was the next one. Just as usual, she did not seem to understand the danger she was in, and just stared up into the sky. A smile formed on her face as she looked at the clouds, even with her body tied tight to her stake. A strange noise came from her mouth, a mixture of a laugh and a gasp. Whatever words Casca wanted to say were completely lost._

 _Guts was the last one. His face was the definition of empty. Soulless, cold, and dead still. That one eye of his tore straight through her, and Farnese did not even have the strength to look at him any longer. Teary-eyed, she forced her gaze away from him._

 _" **This is wrong!** " Farnese thought. She would never hurt her companions. None of this made any sense! Why were they tied up!? Why did she have a torch!?_

 _"S-Serpico!" Farnese shouted as she turned her head back towards her servant, but found only darkness instead._

 _"Lady Farnese?" Serpico asked, his voice pulling her head like a fishing wire. He was on a stake as well, and sat square in the middle of the line. "Are you alright?"_

 _She wanted to scream at him. To slap him so hard that it would break his nose. How could he remain so calm when he was tied up like that? Why was he up there? Serpico was loyal to her their entire childhoods! He did not deserve to burn, none of them did!_

 _So why couldn't she just drop the torch?_

 _Why did she throw it at them?_

 _Why was she just standing there as they burned to ashes?_

* * *

Farnese awoke with a scream. Her hair was drenched in sweat, as was her clothes. The small sheet and pillow she slept on was soaked through. Mud formed beneath, and threatened to suck in the simple sleeping material. Farnese looked around the campground, and saw all of her companions still sleep peacefully. The campfire was in the middle, everyone circled around it as the chill of the evening set in.

Serpico was next to her, a light snore came from him as he shifted. His tunic fluttered in the open breeze of the night as the wind spirits stretched to it played. The cool air that came off of the magical article of clothing felt nice to Farnese.

She turned to Schrieke and Isidro, both completely asleep. Isidro kicked the air, and spun around constantly, while Shrieke was still. Her only movements were the slight motions of her chest as she breathed.

Farnese felt a pull at her arm, and she looked down to see Casca clutching her. The brown-haired woman looked so silly in her dirty robe. Casca's clothing always reminded Farnese of a potato sack, and that made her giggle. Relief crashed over her as the effect of her nightmare wore off. She was not the scared girl she was. The one that sentenced so many to die as she blindly followed the Holy See.

"Bad dreams?" a sudden voice asked, and caused Farnese to slink back in fear. It took her a few moments to see it was Guts, who stared into the campfire as he sharpened his knives. The scrap of metal against rock grated her ears. Even if she wanted to go back to sleep that noise would keep her wide awake.

Farnese stared at the man, but kept her eyes focused on his armor. That horrid, jagged hulk of black metal. The cursed suit that Guts wore could only be described as 'vicious'. Merely looking at it made one think they could lose an arm. She did not like to see him wear that atrocious armor. A painful twinge in her heart struck every time she saw it.

"I-It was nothing..." Farnese said as she wiped her brow clear of sweat. She was not sure why, but she felt so ashamed to have Guts see her like this. "Merely a dream about a horrid beast."

"Think you'd be used to 'horrid beasts' by now," Guts said simply. He ran his fingers across the Brand on his neck, and reflexively checked for blood. The charms placed on both him and Casca were supposed to keep any spirits or demons at bay, but even Farnese found herself feeling uneasy as she stared into the dark forest around them.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Farnese asked. She crawled closer to the fire, and lifted her hands up to it. The chill that crept in from her damp clothing was quickly chased away.

"I was," Guts said, and shrugged his shoulders, "then I heard you tossing and turning, so I woke up."

Farnese's cheeks went red at the news, and she dropped her forehead into the dirt to hide it. Of course he heard her. The man was always on edge, always ready to leap into a fight or some kind of danger at a moment's notice. Any noise, no matter how small, would wake him up, especially at night.

"I-I am sorry..." Farnese moaned out. She wanted to find a nice crevice to bury herself. Somewhere she could hide from her shame.

"It's just reflex," Guts groaned. He stared off into the distance, that one eye of his glowing bright in the campfire. With how the light glowed from the campfire, and the shadows that Guts sat in, he was a pure black silhouette. Only that eye of his glowed. He reminded Farnese of some fairy tale villain, some scary monster that would steal children if they misbehaved. "Had to get used to sleepless nights."

"R-Right..." Farnese said shakily. She did not want to look at _that_ version of him. The one that still scared her to reminisce about. The one that killed her comrades, and forced her to view things that destroyed every foundation she once held dear in her life. Yet that was also the version that showed her the truth of the world. That showed her how hollow she was to rely on blind zealotry to find purpose. He was the one to teach her that no matter how scary she wanted to be, a _true_ monster made her into a scared child all over again.

" ** _True_** _monster..._ " Farnese thought to herself. It seemed odd to her. Weren't the horrid things she had done monstrous? Were they lessened by the discovery of demons and Apostles? Anyone that looked at the old her would have called her a demon.

In fact, they _did_.

" _The Vandimon Devil Child,_ " Farnese repeated those words in her brain. A bitter taste hit her tongue as she did, and refused to cease. She was a demon for as long as she could remember. Farnese could fill a book with every cruel thing she did to the poor staff at her family's estate in her youth. And she only escalated as a woman. Going from breaking vases to sentencing the innocent to die...

"Guts," Farnese began as she turned to the brute, "am... I... a terrible person?"

The sound of knife against rock ceased. All that was left was the crackling of the fire. Farnese hated that sound, now that she thought about it. She was hit with a sharp stab to her heart as the silence between them grew.

"I'm not much better," Guts said, and he resumed his task.

Though the return of noise was a relief, Farnese was unsatisfied with the answer. Her face sunk, and she looked down into the fire. He was always a man of few words, so she doubted there would be anything beyond that. However, not long after, she heard a sigh, followed by the sound of a rock hitting a tree.

Farnese turned to see Guts staring directly at her, and her cheeks flushed a bright red in response. She was not sure why, but her shoes seemed so interesting. Her eyes refused to tear themselves away from the worn boots while her face glowed with heat. Several moments of her examining the leather and string of her boots passed before she heard the man speak again.

"I killed people," Guts said simply, "a lot of people. Too many for me to count. It was how I survived. I just wandered from battlefield to battlefield, killing anyone that tried to kill me," Guts' breath hitched in his throat as he spoke. It was small, almost non-existent, but Farnese somehow caught it nonetheless. "The Brand only makes it worse. I stay in one place too long, well... you saw."

Memories of the Tower of Conviction came back to Farnese. Those creatures that came after her... That devoured the refugees... to live with being hunted by them every night seemed like a cruel joke by some wretched being. Of course, she saw her fair share of haunted nights in her travels with the man, but that Tower remained a black spot in her memory she never wanted to think about again.

"So if you want someone to judge you for what you did," Guts continued, "you shouldn't ask the guy always drenched in blood."

Guts rose to his feet, and walked off into the night. She wasn't sure for what, whether it was to hunt breakfast or to patrol the camp, but it did not matter to her. His words were simple, and not the full speech she wanted from him-

"Thank you..." Farnese said, her hands placed over her heart. On her face, she wore a small smile.

-but those words would do...


End file.
